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Nov 2013
fall into sleep thy body always Spring,
let thy hair uncrisply from mutest gold
turn from youth's splendors

                        towar' wrinkles; fold.


of thy mouth make early nothing,
as April flowers tender

pass thy lips to clearings cold
with kissless hours slender.


fear not the weary mile
treaded years shall always bring

walk in fasted silence
and of thy ending slowly sing.
PK Wakefield
Written by
PK Wakefield
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